The Heart of the Matter : A Collection
by consultingpathologist
Summary: A home for shorter fics originally posted on my Tumblr.
1. For the record

"Molly–"

"It's okay, Sherlock. I know."

"I just–"

"It's okay, _really_."

A look of relief flooded his face. "Okay, well that's…good. I'll just–"

He made it halfway to the lab door before he suddenly stopped in his tracks and spun around on his heels. "Wait, how did _you_ know before _I_ even knew?"

"I know because as soon as you got off the plane John told me the first thing you said was that they were all going to Barts. I know because when you came flying in here that day you hugged me before you even realized what you were doing. I know because every time you've looked at me since I've seen it in your eyes." She paused. "I think it's not always about big romantic gestures or saying those three little words. Most of the time it's about looking at the other person and just knowing that what you're feeling is what they're feeling too."

"Oh."

He walked slowly towards the door as he pondered over her words before turning back once more. "How about dinner? Tonight?"

Her heart fluttered at the surprise offer. "Okay."

"Okay," he echoed softly, nervously jamming his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you tonight then."

She turned her focus back to the microscope while trying to hide a smile when, not a minute later, his head popped back in the door.

"Though for the record I do, in fact, love you."

* * *

Thanks to Lianne La Havas and her song What You Don't Do for the inspiration.


	2. Friday I'm in love

_Tonight. The cemetery. You know where._

The note that had mysteriously appeared on her desk while she was at lunch would have been unusual if weren't for the familiar slanted handwriting.

He was here.

It had been exactly four months and seventeen days since she'd last seen him. Not that she was counting.

She'd had no news since that day. Nothing. Mycroft had been infuriatingly lacking in information on his whereabouts.

 _And now…_

* * *

As soon as the clock hit six, she flew out the doors of the hospital and ran to the Tube.

The noise of the other Friday night commuters was jarring with her mind spinning and nerves on edge so she put in her earbuds and hit shuffle. As the first notes of the song started to play, she smiled to herself and closed her eyes.

 _I don't care if Monday's blue_  
 _Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too_  
 _Thursday I don't care about you_  
 _It's Friday I'm in love_

* * *

The sun was just dipping below the skyline as she walked into the deserted cemetery.

In the dim autumn light, she could just barely make out a dark form in the distance. As she approached, his features became clearer. He was sitting beneath the tree near his headstone. A smile crept onto face as she approached brightening his otherwise serious countenance.

"Must be strange to sit next to your own grave," she said, pulling the earbuds out of her ears and returning his smile.

"It feels oddly powerful, like I've beaten death."

She sat on the ground next to him and leaned against the tree. They were both quiet as they watched the last bit of color fade from the sky.

"You miss this?" she asked quietly. "London, I mean?"

"Yes," he said clearing his throat, "but I didn't come back because of the city."

She swallowed. "Are you staying long?"

He shook his head. "I'm leaving right away. Right after…this."

"Oh."

They sat in silence again for some time before he turned towards her and gestured to her phone. "What were you listening to just now?"

Wordlessly she handed him an earbud, keeping one for herself, and together they listened, neither caring about another thing in the world. Just for a moment.

 _Dressed up to the eyes_  
 _It's a wonderful surprise_  
 _To see your shoes and your spirits rise_  
 _Throwing out your frown_  
 _And just smiling at the sound_  
 _And as sleek as a shriek_  
 _Spinning round and round_  
 _Always take a big bite_  
 _It's such a gorgeous sight_  
 _To see you in the middle of the night_  
 _You can never get enough_  
 _Enough of this stuff_  
 _It's Friday_  
 _I'm in love_

* * *

I was listening to the cover of the song by Yo La Tengo, but you can't beat the original by The Cure.


	3. Bad day

"I hate everyone," Molly announced as she burst through the flat door.

"So bad day was it?" Sherlock asked looking up from his laptop though he already had known the answer by the sound of her heavy footsteps on the stairs.

"I don't even know where to begin," she sighed heavily as she flung her coat onto a nearby chair and unwound the scarf from her neck. "I spent more time dealing with other people's problems and fixing mistakes than I did on my own work. Meanwhile I have a stack of paperwork piling up on my desk and a research paper deadline that is fast approaching. I finally had to escape to the morgue in the afternoon just so I could breathe and deal with people who weren't incompetent."

"The only reason being that they are deceased," he said catching her drift.

"Funny how that works," she quietly murmured as she fell into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.

He could feel her pulse racing against his chest, beating out-of-rhythm against his own. He drew his arms around her shoulders and brushed away a few strands of hair that had escaped from its ponytail.

"I hope you weren't including me in 'everyone'."

"No. Everyone _but_ you. Somehow you always manage to be completely wonderful."

"Good, because I hate to break it to you, Molly, but besides you and me, people are complete idiots."

"Absolute _morons_."

The tension in her muscles had relaxed and her pulse slowed so that it now synced with his. One of the things he had quickly learned was how good it felt to make Molly happy.

"Shall we order some takeaway and forget about the rest of humankind for tonight?"

She raised her head with the first smile on her face he'd seen that day and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I always knew we would be good together."


	4. John figures it out

"Morning, Sherlock," John said, strolling into the morgue. "Got your text. Another victim of those Strand murders?"

Sherlock nodded and began tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. "Barrister found dead in his home with the same markings on his forearms as the two other bodies, or so Lestrade tells me. I think it safe to say that it relates to our other cases, but I need to see the body to make sure."

As John walked towards Sherlock, something stopped him in his tracks. He breathed in deeply. There was a strange scent in the air, slightly floral and sweet, the very opposite of what one expected to smell in a morgue. He was about to comment on it when he suddenly realized it was coming from Sherlock.

"Are you…I mean do you have…" he began, eyeing Sherlock strangely.

"Hm?" Sherlock muttered distractedly as he watched the door.

John shook his head. "Forget it." The last thing he wanted to discuss with Sherlock at the moment was his experiments with new kinds of soaps or whatever reason it may be.

Luckily, Molly burst through the door saving him from having to explore the topic further.

"Okay you two, you're here for Mr. Sanderson, right?" she asked looking at her clipboard.

Sherlock nodded. "Correct."

"Let's fetch him them, shall we?"

As Molly walked by him to retrieve the body, John noticed the most unusual thing. It was the floral scent, the same one.

Just as he was about to remark on the coincidence, he noticed Sherlock looking at Molly. Differently.

She smiled back at Sherlock, her eyes lingering.

Oh.

 **Oh**.

He studied them both now, closely.

It was clearly obvious. They might have been trying to hide it before but now they were failing.

Mary had made a comment the other night about the two of them, but John had dismissed it. No way, not them.

But here was proof that she'd been correct.

He decided to test it, just to make sure.

"So tell me, Sherlock, why didn't you go to view the body at the crime scene last night when Lestrade called?"

Sherlock's eyes flickered over at him. "I was busy."

"Oh?"

"Something came up," he said quickly.

"Right. Of course."

Sherlock turned back to Molly and John smirked to himself. He'd let them have their secret for now, but if Sherlock thought he could keep coming up with reasonable excuses for why he was now showering at Molly's, he was in for a surprise.


	5. Texts from Dartmoor

_Based on one of my favorite headcanons by_ _gaelitabis on tumblr_ _for The Hounds of Baskerville:_ _post/91168322689/this-screencap-comes-from-thob-we-see-sherlock-in_

* * *

 _Molly, I'm going to Dartmoor for a few days. Don't throw out those bacterial specimens you were saving for me! I'll need them when I get back. -SH_

 ** _Dartmoor? It's beautiful there! I went camping there with some friends in uni. Is it for a case? -MH_**

 ** _And don't worry your bacteria is (are?) safe with me. -MH_**

 _Yes, it's for a case. Have to find a big dog with glowing eyes. - SH_

 ** _Does this have to do with Baskerville? I saw something about that on the news. Sounds spooky. Keep me updated. - MH_**

 _Don't tell me you believe in this foolishness too, Molly! I'm sure there's a logical explanation for what's going on. Getting on the train now but I'll e-mail you the details when we arrive. Might need your assistance later. - SH_

* * *

 _From: sholmes .uk_

 _To: .uk_

 _Subject: Baskerville Case_

 _Dear Molly,_

 _Mobile reception is spotty but here are the facts of the case…_

* * *

 ** _Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson just called me in a panic! Why didn't you answer her calls? She said she found some bloody clothes on your bedroom floor. Literally bloody clothes! -MH_**

 _This is why I don't answer her calls. Panic over a bit of blood. And what was she doing in my bedroom? If she insists on snooping could you ask her to send them out for dry cleaning? By the way, the pig was already dead. -SH_

 ** _I'm not even going to ask. - MH_**

* * *

 _**ringing**_

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Hudson? It's Molly. I was able to reach Sherlock. He said not to worry it was only for a case, something involving a pig that he assured me was already dead."

"So that's what he was up to. I knew something was up when I saw that harpoon."

"He also asked if you could pretty please send out his clothes for dry cleaning. He would greatly appreciate it."

"Don't cover for him, dear. I know he would never be that polite, but thank you for trying."

"Would you mind if I stop by? I need to drop something off at his flat. I don't think I've seen you since Christmas."

"Oh, that would be lovely! It's awfully quiet around here when the boys are gone. I'll put the kettle on."

 _**muffled noise**_

"Hello? Molly?"

"Sorry about that. Nearly dropped my mobile in this body cavity. It's…er…well let's just say I should probably go clean it off."

"Oh dear!"

"I'll be over as soon as I'm finished here."

"All right, love. See you soon."

* * *

 ** _Stopped by Baker Street to visit Mrs. Hudson and dropped off your specimens. And just because I am a nice person I threw in a diseased lung as well. You now have a fully stocked fridge…of non-food items at least. You really should consider getting a separate fridge. - MH_**

 _Excellent. Mrs. Hudson would probably agree with you though I prefer it as is. I don't know how you willingly spend time with that woman. - SH_

 ** _You love her and you know it. By the way, why is there a Cluedo board speared to your wall? - MH_**

 _It deserved it. Bloody rules. - SH_

* * *

 _**beep**_

 _You have two new messages. First message._

"Molly? Molly, are you there? I…"

 _**click**_

 _Second message._

"You appear to be asleep. Right. Um. Just…ignore this."

 _**click**_

 _End of messages._

* * *

 ** _I tried calling you back this morning and you didn't answer. What's wrong? - MH_**

 _Nothing. Just had an unusual experience last night. I think I might have been drugged. Going to investigate it today. - SH_

 ** _An unusual experience? What happened? John texted me last night saying you'd seen something and seemed out of sorts. -MH_**

 _I think someone must have slipped something into the sugar I used in my coffee. - SH_

 ** _Did you call me because you were afraid? Fear is a normal thing, Sherlock. Everyone experiences it. - MH_**

 ** _But you are welcome to call me anytime. -MH_**

 _Afraid? Me? Molly, do you not know me at all? No, I'm positive it was drugs. -SH_

 ** _Whatever you say. -MH_**

* * *

 _Why did you send Lestrade? I have the case under control. -SH_

 _Sorry, wrong MH. That was meant for Mycroft. I should fix my contacts to make that clearer. - SH_

 ** _I figured. Greg is there now? -MH_**

 _Yes. He had to stick his nose in, of course. - SH_

 _Saw me texting you. He says quote 'hi' end quote. Thrilling. -SH_

 ** _Tell him I say hello back. -MH_**

 _I will do no such thing. - SH_

 ** _You're impossible. -MH_**

 _I take that as a compliment. -SH_

* * *

 _The labs at Baskerville are awful. -SH_

 ** _Probably because I'm not there to help. -MH_**

 _True. John and Dr. Stapleton have been rather useless. -SH_

 _Apparently it is not the sugar in the coffee. Damn. -SH_

 _Do you know anything about Project H.O.U.N.D.? -SH_

 ** _I don't think so. What is it? -MH_**

 ** _Sherlock? -MH_**

* * *

Two Hours Later:

 _Case is solved. Project H.O.U.N.D. as it turns out was a group that created a hallucinogenic drug in the 80s for the purposes of chemical warfare and such. So it_ was _drugs. -SH_

 ** _They didn't teach us about that one in med school. -MH_**

 _It was top-secret government information. I don't expect anyone knew about it except (the now deceased) Dr. Frankland here at Baskerville who was part of the original project and was trying to drive Henry Knight out of his mind. The drug was being pumped into the air, which is how it got into our systems. - SH_

 ** _What happened with the dog with glowing eyes? -MH_**

 _It was just a dog. And it's dead. -SH_

 ** _Oh no. I mean I'm more of a cat person, but still… -MH_**

 _You and your cats. - SH_

 _I will be home tomorrow. Could you tell Mrs. H? - SH_

 ** _Ok, but you really need to start calling her yourself. She worries. - MH_**

* * *

Two months later:

 ** _You're on the cover of every newspaper. Mr. Reichenbach Hero! - MH_**

 _Kill me. - SH_

 ** _But then how could I tease you about it. - MH_**

 _Speaking of which, any interesting corpses at Bart's? In need of a distraction. - SH_

 ** _Just got in a fresh one a few minutes ago. Appears to be natural causes though. - MH_**

 _I'll take anything at this point. Be there soon. - SH_

* * *

A few weeks later:

 _Seems your ex has been a little naughty. - SH_

 ** _Oh my God. I just saw the news. How did he break into all those places? - MH_**

 _Moriarty can apparently get into anywhere he wants. I'll get to see him when I testify in court. Shall I give him any messages? - SH_

 ** _I hope I never set eyes on him again. I can't believe he sat on my couch! We watched Glee! He petted Toby! - MH_**

 _I might give up dating for the time being, Molly. - SH_

 ** _Toby ran under my bed that night. Maybe he knew something. - MH_**

 _Yes, I'm sure cats can tell when visitors are criminal masterminds. - SH_

 ** _I'm serious! - MH_**

 ** _Now I don't want to go home. -MH_**

 _He's in police custody. - SH_

 ** _I know. It just seems weird that he would get caught on purpose. It creeps me out. - MH_**

 _Come over to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson was in a baking mood today and now our table is full. There's no room for my microscope. - SH_

 ** _I hate to intrude… - MH_**

 _Molly, don't make me drag all my science equipment to your flat! - SH_

 ** _Okay, okay. Be there soon. -MH_**

* * *

 _Sorry again about that in the lab today. I owe you some crisps. - SH_

* * *

Hours later:

 _I'm heading up to the roof now. This will be the last message you'll see from me in a while. If I don't get a chance to tell you later I just want you to know that whatever happens…thank you, Molly Hooper. For everything. - SH_

* * *

 ** _My hands are still shaking. I know you've probably made it out of the country by now but I just need to talk to you one last time. What I wrote on your Christmas present was true, I love you and probably always will. I don't know if it matters to you but it does to me and I just need you to know. Be safe and come home soon. -MH_**

 _***ERROR: Invalid number. Message unable to send.***_


	6. Blue Christmas

He lowered the binoculars with a frustrated sigh. They wouldn't be coming tonight. Not on Christmas. Even criminals took the day off to spend with their families. Mycroft hadn't been able to get enough intel on the time of the meeting, only the location, but something told him that he better be prepared for a long wait. Meanwhile, his brother was likely lounging in front of a roaring fire, a glass of scotch in his hand and the satisfaction of being able to spend the day alone, if their parents hadn't guilt tripped him into a visit that is.

The wind whipped around the roof of the abandoned factory where he was perched in wait. _Bloody hell_ it was freezing. Leave it to Mycroft to have him do all the dirty work. He adjusted his scarf tighter around his neck and pulled down his cap to cover his already frozen ears.

Stealthily he made his way along the edge of roof and found an alcove that still had a clear view of the pavement below but was slightly better shielded from the cold. Feeling able to relax for the first time in days, he leaned against the brick wall and looked up. The endless dark sky stretched out above him with a dazzling array of stars that could never be seen in London.

 _London_. He imagined all his friends at their various parties and gatherings that evening. John likely wouldn't be feeling much of a desire to celebrate the holiday this year, nor Mrs. Hudson for that matter. Lestrade would be probably be trying to drink away his feelings with the rest of the Met crew who didn't have families to go home to. Molly would be...

 _Molly_. What would Molly be doing? At least the others thought he was dead and had had a few months to begin to move on with their lives.

Molly was stuck with the burden of his secret.

It was only a year ago that he'd become aware of his strong attachment to the pathologist. And it had unfortunately come at the most inopportune time as he'd managed to insult her only moments before.

Stupid fool, he was.

He cared for Molly - deeply - and had tried to make that clear before he'd left. If there was one person he would give anything to speak with at that very moment, even just to wish a happy holiday, it was her.

Instead he could only look up at the nearly-full moon and imagine everything he would say to her if he had such an opportunity. Perhaps one day he would.

 _Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper_ , he whispered finally, the words visible in the cold for a brief moment before dissipating in the night sky.

* * *

The warmth of the room from the crush of people had become nearly suffocating. She needed air, space, somewhere where she could hear her own thoughts.

"I'll just be a moment," she yelled out to Meena over the pounding music and quickly headed to retrieve her coat before her friend could argue.

The cold night air that hit her as she stepped through the door provided instant relief. Besides a few smokers talking quietly near the building, the street was silent as everyone was tucked away in their flats for the night. Without a destination in mind, she started walking along the pavement enjoying the quiet and the chance to stretch her legs. A strange restlessness had overtaken her from the moment she'd woken up that morning, _Christmas_ morning.

Thankfully she hadn't had to spend it alone this year. Meena had decided to throw a party for everyone who hadn't been able to make it home due to work or who didn't have anyone else to spend the holiday with. Good cheer was in the air and the alcohol was plentiful. It wasn't the worst way to spend a Christmas.

But she still felt like something was missing. Or honestly _someone_. Sherlock - who was currently busy hunting down a network of criminals in some God-forsaken place and spending Christmas all alone.

It wasn't like the Christmas they'd spent together had been great, but she knew that he'd changed that night. She'd seen it in his eyes when he was apologizing to her.

Her heels clicked along the pavement as she hurried along. It was getting colder and she'd left her mittens and scarf behind, but something kept her moving forward. When she found herself in front of the sign, she laughed to herself. Subconsciously she'd been heading towards the gardens around the block from Barts where she often brought her lunch on nice days. On more than one occasion Sherlock had accompanied her there as he rambled about the details of whatever case he happened to be working on. Once or twice she'd found him waiting for her there when he needed help with some urgent lab work. They even had a special bench under an oak tree where they always sat and talked.

Not surprisingly it was completely empty that night. She wound around the pathways until she found herself at their bench and sat down on the cold damp wood with a sigh.

The moon was nearly full and shown brightly through the bare tree branches. She gazed up at the sky and tried to think of everything she would say to him if he were sitting right next to her at that moment. Would she have that chance again?

 _Merry Christmas, Sherlock_ , she said softly followed by a silent wish for his safety before she stood and headed back.


	7. A slight interruption

**_A tiny (loosely based) Poldark AU_**

* * *

"Mr. Holmes?" she asked at the closed door, tea tray in hand. When no answer came, she knocked hesitantly before turning the knob and stepping into the study. "Mr. Holmes, are you here?"

He was not and most likely had headed out for his daily trip to check on the family mines.

It was the first time she found herself alone in the room. Mrs. Hudson had warned her against snooping claiming that Mr. Holmes strictly forbade it, but Molly was feeling bold and her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

After setting the tray down on his cluttered desk, she wandered about the room and was filled with a sense of awe at his collections of insects in glass displays, carefully detailed botanical drawings, and bookcases crammed with volumes on every topic of science imaginable. There was even a human skull sitting on the mantle. She carefully lifted it up and turned it over gently in her hands wondering how one acquired such a item. He seemed to have particular fascinations with the natural world as well as the study of medicine. This realization thrilled her as it was an interest they both shared.

Her father had been the town doctor and when she was little she would often accompany him on his visits, assisting him as needed. But he had died suddenly leaving Molly in the care of her drunken uncle. It had left a gaping hole in her heart. Not only was her loving father taken from her, but so too was her newfound passion for tending to the sick. In addition, she was forced to live with a man who did nothing but drink and yell curses at her. She had never been more miserable. When Mr. Holmes had offered her the position as kitchen maid, she had jumped at the chance, eager to get away from her uncle's ranting and raving. At the Holmes farm, she had found a place of sanctuary and a man who treated her as an equal and allowed her to live with a sense of freedom.

She was so enthralled by the objects in his study that she didn't hear him enter the house until he was standing right behind her clearing his throat.

"Oh, Mr. Holmes. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

He waved her off. "It's fine. I really just meant to keep out Mrs. Hudson. She was always rearranging my desk when I told her not to. She insists she's not my housekeeper even though she clearly likes to manage all my affairs."

He smiled at Molly causing the book in her hands to fall to the floor.

"I'm sorry-"

"Allow me-"

They both reached down to retrieve it at the exact same moment causing their arms to collide. Molly was thrown slightly off balance by the contact, but Sherlock grabbed her shoulders, steadying her before helping her to her feet.

"Thank you."

But he didn't remove his hands from her and instead began to trace the neckline of her dress with his finger. There was a heavy silence as Molly tried to control her breathing while feeling his touch on her skin.

"You know what they're saying about us - the rumours in the village," he said in a low, hoarse whisper.

She dared not move fearing that she'd break the spell. Instead, she could only stare into his eyes which had turned dark with desire.

But just when she thought he was about to continue a knock sounded at the front door forcing them to break apart.

Sherlock's friend, and one of the new village doctors, John Watson, burst through the entrance of the study. His face was bright red and perspiring and he struggled for breath.

"It's Mary. She's in labour and the baby is breech. Dr. Perry is away from the village. I would normally do it myself but I–I need an assistant. Just to be safe." His worried eyes revealed his desperation.

After briefly considering his options, Sherlock turned to Molly. "You have some experience with this, do you not?"

She had told him about her father and the visits she had spent caring for the sick and setting broken bones. There had been a few births too but…

"Only a little."

"Do you think you could assist Dr. Watson with his wife?"

"Yes, sir," she answered with a sudden confidence. _Where had that come from?_

"Then it's settled. John, ride on ahead. We will follow shortly."

John nodded looking relieved and left hastily.

Sherlock shouted instructions to Mrs. Hudson for managing things while they were gone and then they too were out the door.

After handing Molly the reins to his horse Blackbeard, he gently, but with a strong grip, lifted her onto the animal. In one graceful motion, he stepped into the stirrup and threw his leg over the side of the horse, settling into the saddle behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he took the reins in his hands and they set off.

Though her mind should have been on the task at hand, she couldn't help but savor the feeling of his body against hers and wonder what might have happened had John not interrupted.


End file.
